In the still of the night
by fen-san
Summary: In the dark hours of the night suddenly affairs of the heart all seem terribly highminded and pragmatism kicks in. Contains homosexuality.


At points it didn't look like love as sharp white teeth sank deeply into the firm trapezoids of his lover and Watari responded in kind, fingernails scrabbling at his throat as the weight bore down on top of him. They fought like animals, but why not? It wasn't like there'd be any marks, not with both men being possessed of a shinigami's healing powers. Both of them felt intensely and their… not lovemaking… their coupling was a reflection of their too similar and too passionate natures. It was as if they were in danger of overflowing, of losing themselves and they weren't sure which side it would be better to lose themselves in.

During the day they held hands, laughed, joked and exchanged gooey looks over cups of tea and pastries. Hisoka stared at them, Konoe just smiled paternally and the Hokkaido pair cooed in their insanely saccharine manner. Elsewhere they indulged a far more interesting and much less socially acceptable side of their personalities. Trust games had an interesting edge with magic and playing in shadow… well let us just say that Tatsumi had always known things.

Given Tsuzuki's propensity for falling in love and his seemingly endless heart their arrangement and understanding had been the safest option. Somehow both knew that they could not afford the luxury of anything other than pragmatism, for destruction was too close as it was. But who said that the practical could not be fun? They knew and trusted each other and could spar endlessly, twisting, using each other for hours on end, using the other as a warm body without it ever being insulting. And as the sweat cooled on their bodies and they slept intertwined in a narrow single bed they never felt empty or ashamed of what they had.

Hisoka stared after Tsuzuki mournfully, the pain in his piercing green eyes so blatant it brought sympathy from even a disinterested bystander. But who was to blame for his pain? Was it Tsuzuki's fault for finally getting the hint and accepting Hisoka's less than graceful refusal? Hardly. Being literally burned for daring to touch his shoulder would have tipped off even the most clueless man that he was not wanted. Suddenly oblivion sounded good, but he'd tried alcohol and that hadn't worked out well. Pain assailed him and he swayed.

Tsuzuki leaned into the whip, practically begging for more, turning his stare onto Watari in a silent plea. The blond scientist smirked and brought down the riding crop again. He watched his own arm swing, admiring the deft flick of his wrist as he slapped the whippy stick against the taller man's buttocks and back, latticing the pale skin with red welts, mocking both the man and his cursed pies. He laughed, chuckling bitterly and Tsuzuki echoed it, both being sucked under by their own selves, enjoying a taste of self-destruction when they knew they could not be destroyed so easily.

Tatsumi snorted at their meaningless decadence and stayed standing where he was as shadows writhed over him and engulfed him within them. He steeped forward again and watched the tears falling from those eyes the foolish and fetishistic likened to emeralds. Did they know how bloodstained these jewels were? Perhaps they were more like their physical counterparts than he'd given then credit. But the tears as the silver mess of hair travelled over his body seemed wrong. Tatsumi cocked his head, unable to understand why his notoriously protective instincts remained dormant. He smiled, not bothering to look away from the erotic sight of a much less equal encounter as he understood. This was not an understanding, no affections were shared any more, not even true hate. However, it was a very convenient catharsis.

'You know this means nothing?'

'Of course.'

'Then why?'

'Why not?' Tatsumi looked down and grinned. 'You're no kagema and I'm certainly under no illusions.'

Oriya smirked up at his current company. 'Better than going home to wank in the shower?'

'Indeed. And easier than finding someone to train in my tastes or paying above and beyond for it.'

'So long as we understand one another.'

Hisoka slept peacefully. He rather liked being a temporary substitute for Ukiyo, with warm, strong arms wrapped around him. This strength that could so easily and had destroyed had driven him to near madness and yet now brought him peace. Tomorrow their situation might be back to normal, or the understanding could prevail and a cautious understanding be come to, but in the middle of the night, covered in fading bruises all that mattered was the warm body along the length of his own.


End file.
